Two Step
by rlturner79
Summary: An unexpected vacation in Miami helps determine where Danny & Martin's relationship goes next.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Story was inspired initially by my trip to Miami in August. I've also borrowed the title & some inspiration from the Dave Matthews Band song, "Two Step." _

**Part 1**

This wasn't something he normally did. Despite his reputation, despite his outgoing and confident personality…he didn't normally jump into things this quickly.

But Martin had caught his attention from the get go…albeit in a bad way at first, as Danny had presumed so many things incorrectly about him. But that had been his mistake, and as the layers had been stripped away and they'd spent more and more time together, he'd learned just how wrong he'd been.

Especially so the first night they'd kissed.

Smiling softly, he glanced to his left and watched Martin discreetly. He was flipping through the Sky-Mall magazine, a glint of amusement in his blue eyes as he looked over the ridiculous merchandise. Before he got caught, Danny turned away again and looked out the window, trying hard not to let the nervousness he always felt on flights become too intense. He looked up sharply when he felt Martin squeeze his hand. His eyes were wide as they connected with the other man's, taking in Martin's soft smile, the warmth of his hand. It was a comfort he hadn't expected; that Martin could read him so easily already, could sense his fear and that he wanted to comfort him…

Danny could feel himself relax and he smiled thankfully at Martin, gripping tightly to his hand and threading their fingers together.

That Martin pulled away a few minutes later – when a flight attendant passed by – didn't bother Danny as much as it might have with someone else or in another situation. Everything had changed for him with Martin. He'd gained a patience he'd never had before and an understanding that had been foreign to him in the past.

He and Martin's relationship had crackled with electricity since the moment they'd met. But it had gone from a misunderstood competition to a grudging sort of respect and camaraderie, to friendship and finally to a sexual tension that had erupted into first a night of passion and then a new and slightly uncertain relationship.

Uncertain because the prospect of them lasting, of becoming long term was nearly impossible to imagine. Not because Danny didn't want that, but because there was so much up in the air, so many strings, so much that didn't quite fit. It was daunting, but the more and more time they spent together, the more Danny found himself desperate to make it work.

Sighing, he settled back into his seat and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the sounds the plane made that he didn't quite trust – despite Martin's earlier reassurances that they were perfectly normal.

He still couldn't quite believe they were doing this. Taking a vacation. Two weeks alone together in Miami. And they'd only been a couple for a little more than three months. And this was what he didn't do…jump into something so quickly, especially in a relationship that was still so new and didn't even quite work at times. But Jack had been handing out vacation time like it was Christmas, and neither of them had tried to think too much about the way they'd snatched it up so quickly and had planned a vacation _together_ before they could let rational thought set in.

His only comfort was that he knew that Martin too had second-guessed himself at least a dozen times. Because this wasn't something Martin did either…moving so quickly in a relationship. Especially this relationship.

Danny had come out in college and for the most part, it hadn't been overly dramatic or even that nerve wracking. His friends at the time had accepted it rather easily, quickly and then it was old news. It hadn't been easy per se, but he'd gotten through it rather unscathed. With everything else he'd been through in life, admitting he was gay had been rather painless.

Things were different for Martin though. He'd hidden it for so long that it had almost become a lie in a way. And Danny knew how hard it was for him now…struggling with his sexuality in his mid-thirties, still wanting to hide, desperate to _stop_ hiding, confused and depressed. It was why Danny found himself able to be so patient with the other man.

Martin had so successfully buried any sort of feelings he'd ever had towards members of the same sex. That he'd kissed Danny so impulsively had been due to the highly charged atmosphere of the moment they'd been in. The end of an extremely bad case…tears had been shed, emotions were running high. One moment he'd been unsure how to calm Martin's wild-eyed desperation, the next he'd found himself wound in the other man's arms, kissing him, holding his trembling body against him until Martin had pulled back breathless and confused.

Danny knew he'd taken advantage of things from there. Not letting Martin run away from Danny's apartment the way he wanted to, encouraging him to stay with soft touches and gentle murmurings. He still felt a twinge of guilt every time he thought about how things had gone then. How he'd seduced Martin shamelessly, selfishly. He'd been determined. The moment he'd gotten a taste of what it was like to have Martin in his arms there was no turning back. He'd found himself filled with want and desire that up until that point he hadn't even fully let himself appreciate.

That Martin hadn't run away the morning after was still something that Danny found puzzling. But, Martin had a well of strength in him that often stayed hidden until he really needed it.

---

The drive to the hotel was quiet for the most part, and at first Danny grew worried, wondering if Martin was already regretting their hastily planned trip. A part of him was fully expecting him – if not today, then soon – to make up an excuse to go home early. But he'd glanced at Martin several times, and where he'd first read uncertainty, he slowly picked up on happiness, relief, even excitement.

"I can't believe you left Florida to come to New York Danny," Martin scoffed, eyes glued to their surroundings, a hint of a smile gracing his lips with every palm tree they passed.

Danny's emotions quickly flared up for just a moment and he said nothing rather than speak quickly and say the wrong thing. One hand gripped tightly to the steering wheel, the other a fist at his side. His thoughts were jumbled, warring with each other; caught between a happy response to Martin's wide-eyed appreciation of his home state and the hot-tempered desire to snap at Martin that New York had been an escape. Hell, even South Dakota would have been an escape.

Again he found himself surprised, eyes glancing off the road in front of him for just a moment to find Martin's fingers entwined with his own. Their eyes met for a quick second and Danny felt a rush of relief – mingled with regret for the words he'd almost said – wash over him. Martin understood. Understood even though he didn't _know_.

While Danny had drawn Martin out of his shell considerably, getting him to open up about his family, his secrets, his feelings; Danny had given him very little in return. In regards to his past anyway. Martin knew the basics…knew about his abusive home life and his years spent in foster care, his convict brother, his alcoholism, but Danny had yet to really let him in. He knew what had happened, but he didn't know how it had broken Danny again and again; how it had – for a long time – bled him dry of any genuine emotions or feeling. And Martin had tried. Tried to get past Danny's walls and see something real, but Danny continually kept him at bay. Every time he'd give him something small, something insignificant that he'd play up and force more meaning and emotion into that just wasn't there. And every time he felt terrible, knew that Martin had probably figured out what he was doing, but kept up the façade that he was buying it. He _wanted_ to be more honest and open, but each time he thought he might be able to, his throat closed up and he found himself desperate to keep hiding.

And even now, Martin had no idea how close they were to the root of Danny's secrets. Miami Beach was mere miles from where he'd grown up. Where tourism-themed streets changed over into something darker, somewhere any travel guide would advise against visiting. The brightly colored buildings and local culture went from being pleasantly tacky and inviting to run down and dangerous.

As they drove, he skipped the shortcuts he could still remember and stuck to the main roads, even made a wrong turn once just to pretend he wasn't overly familiar with the area. He drove on silently, hating the lies he was perpetrating, knowing that if he drove a few blocks in a different direction they'd be on the outskirts of his old neighborhood, where the nicer buildings were just starting to appear rundown. A street with a small strip of stores, bland, nameless…a favorite hangout place when he'd been a teenager. A good meeting spot for friends or enemies. Stores that were easy to steal from and drink cheap liquor behind.

Anguished, he gripped more tightly to the steering wheel with one hand; keeping his other hand relatively relaxed in Martin's gentle grip, and turned the car so that they could drive on another street…closer to the beach, to the tourists. Maybe if he pretended hard enough he could convince himself that he was just another one of them.

Danny had calmed down considerably by the time they reached the hotel. A glance in Martin's direction as they stepped out of the car confirmed what he already knew: that he hadn't hidden his distress as well as he'd wanted to. But Martin said nothing, smiling instead as he walked around to Danny's side of the car and stood in front of him. It sent all sorts of shivers through Danny when Martin placed his hands on his hips and leaned in closer, pressing a soft, quick kiss to his lips. He grinned in response, eyebrow raised slightly in surprise. He wanted more. Wanted to lean in and sink his hands into Martin's hair and deepen their kiss, but he knew not to push, and already this closeness was an unexpected but incredible surprise.

The Martin of two months ago would never have dared to kiss Danny outside, in public where they might be seen. He couldn't say if it was because they were in Florida, miles away from anyone who knew them, or just Martin becoming more comfortable with his sexuality and their relationship. But it really didn't matter to Danny, and he continued smiling - his darker feelings momentarily forgotten - as they entered the hotel to check in.

Their room was bright and airy, typical Miami Beach décor, which gave it an interesting mix of classy and tacky. But it had a king-sized bed, a bathroom with a big tub and a balcony that faced the ocean. Martin lit up as he saw that particular feature, letting go of his suitcase and crossing the room to open the sliding-glass door.

The smell of the ocean was even more potent as the breeze rustled the curtains and woke Danny's senses. He smiled, following Martin out onto the balcony, unable to deny the feeling of home that settled over him. Whether that was due more to the way Martin turned in his arms and kissed him or the heat of the sun and the scent of the ocean he couldn't say. But it didn't matter. He slid his arms around Martin's waist and pulled him closer, murmuring his name as they kissed again.

The sex had been unexpected…for Danny anyway. But he wasn't about to complain. They lay still now, tangled up in each other, the door to the balcony open so the ocean breeze drifted over their bodies, drying the sweat on their skin. He thought about the way Martin's eyes went all unfocused and glassy when he came, how he had no problem with anything Danny wanted to do to and with him, but talking about it made him blush nearly all over.

Smiling, Danny pressed closer to him, sliding his hand slowly up Martin's back to his neck and then into his damp hair. "So, how are you enjoying Florida so far?" he asked with a smirk.

Martin laughed, bright and clear as he leaned in, ducking his head to kiss Danny again, bringing one hand up to rest against his neck. "I think you know the answer to that," he murmured.

Danny smiled, feeling an amazing sort of happiness flow over him as Martin smiled back against his lips. It was incredible what this man could do to him. Make him forget, make him believe…make him want so much more than he thought he deserved. They were quiet for a while after that, drifting in and out of sleep, lingering in the feelings of closeness that only grew stronger every time they were together.

When he woke up a while later, he turned on his side, drawn by the sounds behind him. He smiled softly to himself as he watched Martin unpacking his suitcase. He was so precise…putting clothes into the dresser drawers, taking toiletries into the bathroom, neatly hanging up his suit. Danny felt a rush of affection for the other man based solely on his compulsive need to organize. Rolling his eyes, he turned and laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about how far in over his head he really was.

---

They spent the first few days on the beach, relaxing into an easy routine that neither of them was used to but grew to love within a matter of hours. There was something seductive about the ocean. How, the two of them, both so intense and powerfully connected to their jobs, let go of all the lingering stress and anxiety so easily and quickly was remarkable. Lying side by side on a blanket, their feet sifting through the soft, hot sand, the crash of the waves, the wind…it was beyond relaxing; it was cleansing.

For Danny, it was also a chance to think. It was easy to ignore everything that was bothering him for a while. All his life he'd been good at hiding his problems and keeping his true feelings to himself. Now was no different. The difference now was that he hated doing it. In all honesty, he could no longer try to convince himself that it was a survival mechanism of sorts, and he _wanted_ to share everything with Martin. It was just so hard to take that first step, to admit what he'd been through in more than a clinical sort of recount.

Worst of all, he knew it was starting to hurt the other man, and it made his heart ache every time he watched that hurt flash brightly in Martin's blue eyes, every time he felt him pull away just a little bit. A prime example being the night before.

They had gone out for dinner to a Mexican restaurant…a tourist hotspot from the looks of it. Good enough food and a minimalist sort of atmosphere; nice in all respects except that no self-respecting native to Miami would've been caught dead inside. Danny remembered well several spots that would've served better food for less money, but he couldn't bring himself to make the suggestion.

Afterwards they'd gone back to the beach, unable to stay away for too long. The moon was almost full and bright in the otherwise dark sky. They had walked for a while, away from the more populated areas to a quieter stretch of sand and palm trees. Sitting there, under the moonlight, it hadn't taken long before Danny had found himself tangled up in Martin's arms, his mouth hot against his skin, his lips. Martin had laughed when Danny smirked, pulling him down into the sand, the two of them breathless and eager, making out like teenagers who had snuck away from their parents' condos for the night.

Danny kept waiting for Martin to protest. To point out that anyone could walk by and see them or even that it was going to take forever to get all of the sand out of their hair and clothes. But he hadn't protested; in fact he had instigated the whole thing and seemed content to lie in the sand with their arms around each other, talking and sharing the occasional kiss. Again Danny wondered if Martin's easygoing, seemingly carefree attitude had more to do with the vacation or with their relationship or maybe a mixture of the two.

"Did you come to the beach a lot when you lived here?"

That was the question that had changed things, shifting their soft, easy night into something uncomfortable. And it shouldn't have. It was a simple enough question, one that Danny could've answered honestly. He could've told Martin that he remembered a few occasions, when he was young, when his mother had brought Rafi and him to the beach. That it was an escape from the oppressive heat and routine walks to the playground of their neighborhood. It hadn't been often, as his mother had to work most days leaving the two of them home by themselves in the summer – on the days their father hadn't stayed home from work because he was too hung over to get out of bed. But occasionally their father would be safely at his job and their mother had a day off.

She'd pack them sandwiches and cans of soda, piling it into a bag along with some towels, a baseball and a hand-me-down paperback novel for herself. They'd take the half-hour bus ride to Miami Beach, walking the rest of the way to where the beach had public access – away from the stretches of sand reserved solely for hotels and their guests. They'd spend the day under the sun, swimming and playing catch while their mother read, occasionally taking a break to join them in the waves. Danny would bring her seashells, which she always took gratefully from his hands, smiling warmly and assuring him that each one was the most beautiful shell she'd ever seen.

They were happy memories, and for some reason Danny found them even more difficult to share than the bad ones. So instead he'd shaken his head, eyes focused steadily on the moonlight reflecting off the water.

"No, not often. We weren't exactly a beach going sort of family," he replied bitterly, his words clipped and abrupt. He knew that he was being unfair, but he couldn't seem to stop. "When I got older I came sometimes with my friends but mostly we hung out closer to home." _Which is only about 30 minutes away,_ he'd failed to add. He _felt_ Martin pull away just slightly then, felt the easy and unexpected closeness they'd been sharing morph into something awkward and distant and he _hated_ it.

When Martin had sat up and leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees, Danny watched him carefully and felt his chest constrict. Swallowing hard over the sudden lump in his throat, he sat up as well and slid his arm around the other man's waist, leaning closer and resting his chin on Martin's shoulder.

"Fitz," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to sensitive skin just below Martin's ear. "I'm sorry," he added softly, hoping that it didn't sound too forced.

Martin's body stiffened, and although he didn't quite pull away, Danny could sense that he was no longer comfortable. He was hurt. And Danny could understand that. Their eyes met as Martin turned, his blue eyes filled with a resigned sort of sadness. "Danny…"

Danny nodded, waiting, almost wishing that Martin would berate him for holding back, for continuing to keep things from him. Instead, Martin sighed, pulling away from Danny's touch and standing up. "I think I'm going to head back to the hotel," he said softly. "I'm all sandy…should probably take a shower." He paused, waiting it seemed for Danny to stand up as well.

Instead Danny only murmured his assent and stayed seated in the sand, his arms around his knees. "I'll be back in a little bit; I want to stay out here for a while longer."

Martin didn't say a word as he walked away. He might have nodded in response, but Danny had been too much of a coward to look up and meet his eyes. He turned after a few moments, eyes straining against the darkness to watch Martin's form walking slowly back in the direction of the hotel.

"Fuck," Danny swore, his body tense now. His hand closed over a nearby seashell and he hurled it into the waves before running his hands through his hair in frustration and anger. He wanted to go after Martin, to catch him before he made it back to the hotel and wrap his arms around him. He wanted to hold the other man tightly against him and whisper his apologies against his mouth. But he wasn't sure how to do that now without it sounding forced or fake.

When he went back to the hotel later – he wasn't sure how much time had passed – Martin was already asleep, curled close to the very edge of the king-sized bed, as if he were protecting himself from giving away too much.

Closed off now. Upset.

Danny blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and stripped down to his boxer shorts, climbing into bed next to Martin and reaching for him before he could stop himself. But Martin stayed asleep as Danny wrapped his arms around the other man, settling him back against his chest and holding onto him tightly.

---

Without a word about the previous night's events, they'd gone to the beach again in the morning. It seemed easier – for both of them – to pretend that there wasn't a wall between them, a distance that seemed impossible to cross. No, it was easier to lie in the sand next to each other and talk about things that were unimportant. It was easier to laugh and run into the ocean, allowing the salty water to bring out the playful side in each of them.

But there was a restless humming in Danny that was continually growing stronger. He knew he couldn't ignore it forever and he knew exactly what it wanted. It wanted him to visit his old neighborhood, to torture himself with the past, to show him that no matter where he went or how many times he changed his name he would always be from _there_.

However, despite his growing need, he knew it was a bad thought from the start. They had finally decided to leave the beach and head back to the hotel. Martin was hungry and rather than wait for Danny to shower and change he suggested he go out for takeout, come back and they could just eat on their balcony. Danny had agreed without a second thought, smiling as Martin kissed him and then left. It was only a few seconds later that he'd grabbed his wallet and his keycard and left the room as well.

He took their rental car – as Martin had decided to walk – and drove quickly, recklessly, swerving through the streets of Miami and further inland to where the tourist spots disappeared. He swallowed hard, knuckles nearly white as they gripped the steering wheel. He hated the memories that surfaced with every turn he made, and by the time he'd stopped the car outside of his old apartment building, he wanted to hurt someone or something. Badly.

He couldn't even bring himself to get out of the car, was loathe to have his feet touch the same crumbling sidewalk that he'd walked and ran on years earlier. But he sat there in his car, hands still clenched tightly to the steering wheel, and he stared up at the building he'd grown up in. Stared at it until his eyes stung, until he was certain it was burned into his memory – as if it already wasn't.

By the time he made it back to the hotel he knew he'd made a mistake. He felt worse now instead of better, and he'd been gone longer than he had expected. A glance to his phone – which he'd silenced for the ride out – showed several missed calls from Martin. When he pulled into the garage beneath the building, he put the car in park and turned off the engine…and started to cry. Again, he heard his cell phone ring, and he fumbled with it quickly to silence the sound, throwing it back down on the passenger seat before he could throw it out the window. He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, cursing his own stupidity and selfishness, wondering why he felt this senseless need to torture himself and live in the past when he had a present that was so worth living for.

When he opened the door to the room, he nearly ran into Martin who appeared to be in a frantic rush to leave. His eyes widened and he threw down his wallet and cell phone, taking a small step backwards as Danny shut the door. Worry was etched painfully all over his face.

"Did you already eat?" Danny asked.

Martin's eyes changed instantaneously, going from a wide-eyed worry and surprise to something darker. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides and Danny found himself hoping – for just a quick second – that Martin would hit him. The other man was trembling with anger and when Danny took a tentative step forward, Martin shook his head abruptly and turned away.

"Fuck you Danny," he said softly, his voice quiet and calm. Dangerous.

Danny stayed where he was, watching Martin go out onto the balcony and shut the sliding glass door behind him. He sat down in one of the deck chairs and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he looked out at the ocean. Glancing to Martin's left, Danny saw the dinner he'd set out – Chinese takeout – the bottles of Coke, the napkins, straws and chopsticks. He sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling like someone had kicked him in the stomach.

How was he supposed to explain this away? He'd left without a word, without a note or anything. Had just up and disappeared for a good two hours, coming back looking like hell and pretending nothing was wrong. And lingering there in between the worry and the anger, he had glimpsed what Martin had so quickly tried to hide. The hurt. The painful reminder that Danny didn't really share the important aspects of his life with him. That he wouldn't confide in him. And Danny hated himself for it.

He couldn't say how much time passed before Martin came back inside, but he hadn't moved from his spot on the bed. He certainly wasn't expecting Martin to drop to his knees on the floor in front of him and wrap his arms around his waist. When Martin looked up at him with pleading eyes, Danny felt himself tremble and it took everything he had not to look away.

"You've been crying," Martin said softly, his voice flat.

Danny shook his head.

Hurt flashed again in those blue eyes, deep and wounded. Martin reached up to touch his face, fingers soft despite the anger Danny knew was still lingering beneath the surface because he knew Danny was lying to him.

"Tell me," Martin pleaded. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me where you went and why you came back so upset…please Danny."

Martin's voice was hoarse, trembling, his eyes full of worry and desperation. Danny felt his heart break. He opened his mouth, only to close it without a word. He looked away, shame, anger and guilt running through him harshly. Looking back at Martin, he shook his head.

Martin's eyes clouded, tears forming as anger and frustration burned brightly in his eyes. He stood up abruptly and turned to walk away, but Danny caught his arm, pulling him down onto the bed before he could even think about what he was doing. He needed Martin. Now more than ever. Even though he'd just hurt him…again.

Danny pressed their mouths together and he felt Martin push at his chest, fighting him, resisting for only a few seconds before giving in to the harsh, demanding kisses. Martin's skin was so warm; Danny's hands greedy as he shed the other man of his clothing. He yanked him closer, breath harsh, lips hungry as he mapped out trails of licks, bites and kisses over his body. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew that Martin did too, which made him unable to meet the other man's eyes. He wished he could turn off the lights and plunge them into a comforting, protective darkness; but turning off the lights required getting up and Danny was certain that things would end if he let Martin go.

He was using him. Using Martin to quiet his heartache and desperation. Using Martin because he couldn't bear to go on keeping things from him yet he didn't know how to tell the truth.

"Danny…" Martin cried out sharply as Danny took him into his mouth. His back arched up off the bed as he pressed his head into the pillow, his eyes closing. Danny watched him for only a few moments, too afraid for the moment when Martin's eyes opened and their gazes met. He didn't want that; he felt too ashamed already. He dug his fingers into Martin's hips and sucked him harder, deeper, knowing exactly what to do to bring him closer to the edge. It was when he pushed a finger inside of him that Martin shuddered, coming in Danny's mouth, his moans deep and full of pleasure.

"I want you," Danny gasped, pulling off the rest of his clothes and settling himself between Martin's legs.

Martin nodded. "Yes," he whispered, eyes still closed, body flushed. He lifted a hand, reaching out for Danny, but Danny didn't respond the way he knew Martin wanted him to. He wanted to pull him close, to kiss him, move against him until they were both hot and hard and ready for more. But Danny took Martin's hand instead, squeezing it tightly for a moment as he stroked himself a few times with the other, coating his cock with the remaining results of Martin's orgasm as well as his own arousal as best he could.

And he'd thought about this before – the first time they'd have unprotected sex – but he'd never imagined it in this situation. Their eyes met, Martin's a mixture of surprise, pleasure and pain. Danny shuddered, unsure if it was due more to the powerfully tight heat of Martin's body or how awful he knew he was going to feel when this was over. Sex between the two of them had always been – even from the first time – a point of connection, a way to bond when words failed them. But this was decidedly different. And unhealthy. It was hard, fast and painfully detached.

Danny moaned when Martin drew his knees back, wrapping his arms and legs around him, pulling him closer, encouraging him deeper. And he did just that, slipping his arms under Martin's back and pulling him up to meet him, dropping his head to press his lips to the other man's chest and throat. He could no longer bear to look him in the eyes. And although he knew instinctively that everything would soften if they kissed, he purposely avoided it, because he knew it had the power to cause them both to fall apart. All he wanted now was release.

He cried out sharply and swore as he came, overwhelmed by how intense his orgasm was, how it caused him to shake and nearly collapse on top of Martin. When he heard Martin's whimpered moan, he reached between their bodies, feeling the other man's hardened length against his stomach. It only took a few flicks of his wrist, thumbing the tip with every stroke, until Martin came for the second time that night, his cries echoing harshly in Danny's ears.

He pulled out of Martin slowly, cursing himself when the other man winced. He got up after a few moments, feeling unsteady on his feet. When he went into the bathroom for a towel he caught sight of himself in the mirror and nearly put his fist through the glass he felt so disgusted. Quickly, he turned off the lights, feeling slightly relieved once he was surrounded by the encompassing darkness.

It wasn't a surprise, but it hurt like hell to see Martin once again curled up near the edge of the bed, his back turned to Danny, his hands tucked safely beneath his pillow. Apparently he'd already cleaned himself off with his previously discarded boxers, which had been tossed onto the floor.

There was only a small glow from the moon tonight; it stayed hidden for the most part behind the clouds, peeking out only occasionally and shining into the windows that they'd failed to cover with the curtains. When that light danced briefly over Martin's skin, Danny couldn't resist, shifting closer to him in the large bed and wrapping his arms around him as he pressed up against his back. He kissed his neck and his shoulder, his hands pressing tightly against his chest and stomach. Martin shuddered and sighed softly, a sound that felt more like a sob than the normal contented noises Martin normally made after sex.

"I'm sorry baby," Danny whispered. "I'm sorry," he repeated. Over and over he whispered the words, punctuating each of them with a small kiss to his skin. He held him tighter when he felt Martin's body melt back into his, when he heard his shuddering intake of breath and knew that he was crying.

Exhausted, Martin fell asleep a little while later, but Danny knew he probably wouldn't sleep at all. He'd planned their vacation in the hopes of their getting closer and furthering their relationship. But all he'd done was successfully push Martin away. And after tonight he wasn't sure if he'd be able to get him back.

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

Danny woke up to a clap of thunder, surprised that he had even slept at all. His next realization was that Martin wasn't in the room, nor was he in the bathroom or out on the balcony. Swallowing hard and forcing himself not to panic, he got out of bed and looked around, relieved to see that the other man's suitcase was still in the closet, his clothes still in the drawers. But a quick check of the nightstand showed that Martin's wallet and cell phone were gone as were the keys to their rental car.

He sat back down on the bed, regret and sorrow washing over him powerfully. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to swallow around the lump in his throat; but the tears were determined to fall, so he wiped his eyes quickly and went into the bathroom to take a hot shower, hoping that if he ignored the need to cry it would go away. It wasn't until he came back into the room that he saw the hastily scribbled note on his nightstand underneath his phone. Perched on the edge of the bed he reached for the paper gingerly, almost wanting to ignore rather than read it.

_Be back later. M._

It was cold, impersonal, yet it was more than Danny had done. When he'd disappeared the day before, he hadn't even written something so small. And Danny could only guess what Martin was feeling now…his trust betrayed, his heart hurting…and yet he'd still thought of Danny, had given him some sort of word before leaving.

Danny sat with his back against the headboard, knees pulled up to himself, holding his cell phone in one hand and Martin's note in the other. Part of him wanted nothing more than to get up and go looking for Martin, but he didn't know where to start. He knew the city well enough, but he had no idea where Martin would go to be alone. The beach was an obvious choice as the very nature of the ocean was made for one to sit along and think, but it was storming pretty badly. Besides that he had no other viable guesses. He knew Martin was good at hiding when he wanted to, and Danny, though good with his instincts and able to read Martin pretty well, just didn't know where to start. His other dilemma being that he didn't want to be gone if Martin came back to the room.

So he waited instead. Moving around the room from the bed they'd shared to the small table in the corner and out onto the balcony to watch the storm. He checked his cell phone repeatedly to make sure it was still turned on and that he hadn't inadvertently turned the volume down or off. He forced himself not to call the other man, knowing that Martin needed time and space.

He tried his hardest not to think of the night before or all that he'd done to make things wrong. But after a while he couldn't help it; there wasn't much else to do after all, shut up in the room by himself torn between going after the other man and waiting desperately for him to come back.

That he'd hurt Martin was obvious. Wondering if there was anything he could do to fix it was what was killing him.

It hadn't stopped raining all day and as it began to get darker, Danny's worry began to turn more frantic. Frustrated, he sunk back down onto the edge of the bed, leaning forward to run his hands over his face and through his hair. By now he'd pictured Martin at all sorts of places and doing all sorts of things, none of which he wanted to contemplate being truthful. He picked up his cell phone again and stared at it, willing it to ring, flipping it open several times to check that it was on, that he was getting a signal, that the volume was turned up. When it actually rang, he jumped and dropped it on the floor, so surprised by what he hadn't honestly been expecting.

"Martin?" He opened it without looking at the caller ID, figuring it couldn't be anyone else.

"Danny."

His voice sounded tired, hoarse. Danny swallowed hard, fingers gripping tightly to the phone, wishing he knew what to say to make things better. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing himself for not coming up with anything better to say.

"I…" he paused and Danny heard him exhale a shaky breath before going on. "I'm at another hotel," he said, voice trembling. "I'm gonna stay here for the night. I'll…be back um tomorrow or…" he trailed off, his voice rough, shaken.

"Fitzie…" Danny pleaded softly, his throat tight, his chest aching. He didn't know what he could do or say to take back the previous night, to take back all that he'd done wrong so far. More than anything he wanted Martin back with him so that he could at least try.

"Call my cell if you…if you need something…" Martin answered, his voice nearly a whisper now.

"Martin wait--"

He looked down at the phone, confirming what he had already heard. Silence. Martin had hung up.

"Fuck…" Danny swore, his eyes stinging with tears. He nearly threw the phone across the room, strangely desperate to see it shatter all of the sudden. He dropped it on the floor beside him instead and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. He sat that way for a long time, wanting to cry but not really able to, wishing there was _something_ he could do to change where he was now. Where they _both _were now.

It was on shaky legs that he stood up, pulled on a pair of jeans and a button down shirt, slipped into a pair of flip-flops and grabbed his wallet and his keycard for the hotel. He walked aimlessly through the streets of South Beach, comfortable in the hot air, watching the city come alive as the sun went down and the lights became brighter. It would've been easy to step into one of the bars and get started early, but his stomach rolled at the thought, and he walked past each one with a strange sort of confidence. It wasn't easy because his mind was only on Martin, and every thought hurt. Drinking could've taken it all away, but it wasn't what he wanted.

He got into a cab, softly gave an address, sat back and waited. Once they arrived, he offered a ridiculous tip if the driver waited fifteen minutes and didn't drive away. A flash of the promised money made the cabby's eyes light up, but he didn't hand it over and wouldn't until he got back. He walked briskly through the night air, hotter here, not quite as close to the coast where the ocean air created at least a semblance of a breeze.

The cemetery was dark, not very well kept and Danny knew without a doubt that it was dangerous at night. He should've brought his gun, but he hadn't been thinking that far in advance. It didn't take long for him to find their plots even though he'd only been here once before…on the day of his parents' funeral.

He stood still in the grass before the two small headstones, arms wrapped around his chest, hugging himself tightly. He could barely see their names in the darkness, only a dim glow coming from the streetlights and the half moon in the sky. But he knew. He shivered, feeling cold, uncertain. He couldn't bring himself to cry, or even find any true feelings of sadness within his heart. Instead, he felt empty and broken. If he shut his eyes he could feel Martin's arms tight around his waist, his body warm against his back. If he listened hard enough he could hear Martin's voice in his ear, warm, comforting, true…

"Enough," he whispered, running his fingers through his hair and tugging a bit on the ends. He gave one last look at his parents' graves, swallowed hard and turned away.

By the time the cab dropped him off on the strip in South Beach again he was considerably calmer; however, he still didn't feel any better. There was a bar across the street from where he stood, dark and inviting, but he only sighed, turning away and feeling worse. He stopped in one of the Walgreen's he passed, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights and walking slowly through the aisles. After grabbing two handfuls of items he went back and got a shopping basket, dumping his bags of chips and cans of soda into it. He added some doughnuts, a box of cookies, some pretzels and a few other random items, not really caring what they were. As an afterthought he asked the cashier for a pack of cigarettes and threw a lighter into his pile of merchandise.

A few more blocks went past and he made a quick stop into a dank, unimpressive Chinese restaurant and picked up two orders of sweet and sour pork. By the time he made it back to the hotel it was well after midnight, but he wasn't at all tired. He turned on the bedside lamps and the TV, dumping out his bags of junk food onto the carpet, opening a can of soda and reaching for the Chinese food first.

It was the only unhealthy sort of binge he could allow himself, because he refused the clichéd fall back into alcohol. But he wanted something to fill him up, to take away the emptiness that he felt every time he thought about Martin. They'd been so close to taking a step in the right direction, a big step…something close to a solid commitment. Something Danny craved. Except he knew he'd screwed it all up…couldn't get past his issues of trust, of the past, of sharing the burden of all that haunted him.

He ate more food than was healthy, knew he'd probably wake up in the middle of the night sick to his stomach – assuming he was able to fall asleep after all the caffeine and sugar he'd consumed. After four hours of mindless television, he forced himself to get up and walk around the room. On impulse he grabbed the pack of Marlboro Light's he'd picked up and took them out onto the balcony. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the sliding glass door as he took his first drag, the smoke nearly choking him. But it felt good in some strange way so he took another, pacing the balcony for a while before settling on a spot against the railing. It didn't take him long to figure out that he would've been better off staying inside with the television.

It was quieter out here. The soft, hypnotic crash of the waves below, the distant glimmer of voices on the beach. All that combined with the slow, warm sting of the cigarette smoke…it brought him right back to where he didn't want to be.

Thinking.

Thinking about Martin.

He shut his eyes and took another long drag…thought about the night before until he couldn't take it anymore. He sank down to the balcony floor, leaning against the cool bars of the railing and looking out at the moonlight that reflected dimly on the ocean water. He jumped when he felt the cigarette burn his fingers, swore to himself and put it out. Drawing his knees into his chest he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on them. And went on thinking.

---

Danny woke up with a start, jolted out of sleep by an immediately forgotten dream. Blinking against the bright sunlight, he groaned and pushed his face back into the blankets. It took him a few minutes to realize that the television was still on, that his head was at the foot of the bed and the room was once again, empty.

His neck ached from sleeping without a pillow, his head was pounding, he felt slightly nauseous and his mouth tasted like an ashtray. All things considered though, it was better than a hangover.

He managed a glance at the clock and wasn't surprised to see that it was well after two in the afternoon. Not at all curious since he probably hadn't fallen asleep until close to six a.m. Just as the sun had been peeking over the ocean. After a moment's panic he located his phone – trapped under the jumbled blankets – and sighed when he confirmed what he already knew. That he had no missed calls, voicemails, or even text messages.

Biting down on his lip, he once again buried his head against the bed's soft comforter and tried to wish away the past twenty-four hours. He wanted to go back to before he'd disappeared without an explanation. Or if not that far, he wanted to at least force himself to go back and give Martin an honest answer. He wondered where the other man was now. If the hotel he'd stayed in was nearby or farther away. If it was nicer than this one or a dive. If he was safe, if he was okay, if he was thinking about Danny…

Letting out a cry of frustration, he grappled for the remote and fought to quickly turn up the television's volume…wanting nothing else than the mindless drone of actor's and advertiser's voices so that he could stop reliving all that he'd done wrong. He refused to move for most of the afternoon, resenting the bright Florida weather outside, hating the remains of the junk food scattered around the room, wishing that Martin would call again, and more than anything that he would come back.

It wasn't until after dinnertime that he got his wish. In the middle of another reality-show marathon, it caught him by surprise to hear the sound of the door opening. He'd been lying diagonally on the bed, the television upside down to his view. But he'd sat up quickly at the sound of the door being pushed open slowly. He sucked in a sharp breath and immediately met Martin's eyes.

Swallowing hard he picked aimlessly at the blanket beneath him, watching as the other man averted his gaze, his eyes and expression both weary and nervous. His already-stressed face seemed to amplify as he glanced around the room, darting from the empty bags of chips and cartons of Chinese food, to the opened pack of cigarettes on the bedside table, and finally back to Danny's gaze.

"Were you smoking?" Martin asked, frowning, his voice a mixture of disappointment and worry.

"Only two…well one and a half. It nearly choked me," he replied lightly. "The last time I had a cigarette was nineteen eighty-eight," he added, trying – and failing – to smile.

Martin nodded in response, eyes lingering on Danny's for just a moment before he turned away. Danny ran his hands through his hair and sighed softly, frustrated and unsure of what he should do next. There was a barrier between them now that had never been there before. Oh, there had always been a wall of sorts between them because of Danny's hesitance – or refusal – to share anything honest about himself. But they'd still managed to connect on some levels. Now, everything was awkward and out of sorts, and Danny had no idea where to start to make things better.

But when Martin turned away, went to the closet and retrieved his suitcase, Danny finally stopped thinking and acted instead. He untangled himself from the blankets and walked quickly across the room to where Martin stood. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms tightly around the other man from behind and pulled him close, ducking his chin down to rest on Martin's shoulder.

"Danny please…" Martin said hoarsely, his body trembling. "I…I think I should go home," he went on softly. "I just can't…"

"Stay," Danny whispered, his lips brushing the soft skin below Martin's ear. "Fitz, don't do this…don't leave," he pleaded, arms tightening around the other man, one hand pressed firmly against his hip, the other on his chest. Martin's soft whispered pleas and his lack of response to Danny's touch were quickly causing him to panic. He knew that if Martin left now and went back to New York that the chances of their working things out would be very slim. He had to try now.

A few moments of silence passed before Danny felt Martin's body shift, just a little. He didn't hold himself quite so rigidly anymore, leaning back – only slightly – against Danny. One of his hands brushed Danny's where he held his hip. Danny pushed himself closer, gently pressing his lips to Martin's neck, murmuring pleas and gentle words in Spanish.

But suddenly Martin's voice was choked, desperate and it froze Danny where he stood. "Danny…please don't…you know I can't…can't tell you no when you…"

Quickly, Danny let him go and forced him to turn around. He took Martin's face in his hands, struck by the nerves and the weariness he saw painted there. He swallowed hard over the lump in his throat and tried to ignore it; he did not want to cry. Not now when Martin was the one looking so vulnerable and upset. When Martin had practically declared that a good portion of their relationship was based upon nothing more than Danny's ability to seduce and seduce well. "Please don't leave," Danny begged then. "Let me try again…stay and…give me another chance Martin…please," he said, voice rough.

To his great surprise, Martin nodded, falling against Danny weakly, sighing as he wrapped his arms around him and buried his face against his neck. "I don't want to leave," he admitted softly, his breath warm against Danny's skin. "I just…I don't know what to do anymore."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut and held Martin more tightly, the other man's words tearing through his heart painfully. "I'm sorry," Danny whispered, wishing he could find better words to say. He pulled back slightly and looked into Martin's eyes again, hating the sadness he glimpsed there.

Sighing, Martin leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Danny's and shutting his eyes. "I'm exhausted," he murmured. "I didn't sleep much at all last night."

"Me neither," Danny replied. He took a few steps towards their bed, pulling Martin with him. "Why don't we sleep for a little while?" he suggested. Nervous almost, he bit his lower lip and looked away from blue eyes that were curious suddenly. "I just want to hold you," he added in a soft voice. "And then…"

Martin kissed him softly, surprising Danny, and suddenly making his heart ache even worse with the thought that he might have lost – and could still lose – the other man.

Despite everything it was easy to climb into bed together, to move close and back into each other's arms. Martin kissed him softly again before burrowing closer, pressing his face into Danny's neck and holding him tighter. Danny, in turn, squeezed his eyes shut against tears as he slid his arms around Martin's back. Their legs tangled automatically and Danny felt the other man relax against him, his breathing evening out as he fell asleep. Part of him wanted to stay awake, to fight against sleep and make sure Martin didn't disappear. But he was so tired after an endless day and a very sleepless night, and Martin's body was warm in his arms, fitting against him so perfectly that it was impossible to not give in.

---

When Danny woke up it was dark outside. It took him a few moments to orient himself, to remember and realize that Martin was still here. Still here and still in his arms. He was, however, surprised when he realized that Martin was already awake and watching him steadily. Swallowing hard, he took a few moments to gather his thoughts, unable determine why he was, in fact, so nervous suddenly. They were so close and Martin's blue eyes were strangely calm, warm, watching Danny with a careful sort of precision and hope.

"I thought you'd still be sleeping," Danny murmured, not knowing what else to say. He just had to get past the silence that had settled around them. Not that it wasn't comfortable, it was…but a part of him felt unnerved and ridiculously exposed.

Martin shook his head. "I slept much better here…with you than I did last night," he answered softly. Lightly, he ran his fingers over Danny's cheek, letting his hand rest gently against his neck. An action to which Danny responded with a shiver; and he couldn't help closing the last little bit of distance between them, sighing as his lips pressed against Martin's. Martin's hand slipped upwards into his hair as they kissed, and Danny could _feel_ himself melting. It was soft, warm and sleepy and he whimpered as their tongues touched. And somehow it was different from any of their previous kisses…slow and deep and…more. It made Danny tremble and ache and when they finally broke apart, he found himself whispering desperate apologies against Martin's swollen lips.

"Shh, Danny…" Martin soothed, his thumb moving slowly back and forth over Danny's jaw, his eyes full of warmth.

"I never wanted to hurt you Fitzie," he whispered, his grip tightening on the other man.

Martin nodded and kissed him again. "I know."

"Tell me what I can do," Danny pleaded, desperate suddenly. "To make things better." The feel of Martin in his arms this way was too much; such a contrast to the previous night that he never wanted to go back to that again.

Martin shook his head slightly, looking away for just a few moments before meeting Danny's gaze again. "You know it's not that easy," he replied softly, the soft lines on his face hardening just slightly. His eyes were sad in a way that made Danny's heart clench with fear. "Maybe…maybe we did all of this too quickly," he admitted, his voice hollow and colored with regret.

Danny shook his head, unable to help the way he pulled back slightly. He didn't want to have this conversation. "Martin…"

"Danny, you know we've moved fast," Martin interrupted, his eyes full of sorrow. "It's only been a little more than three months together and now we're here and…" he trailed off, silence indicating the problems they were both already well aware of. "Maybe we've been trying to force something that just doesn't work," he added softly, his voice trembling.

Again, Danny shook his head, denying Martin's words, not wanting to give up like this. "I know this has been fast," Danny agreed. "And I know it's scary but…I wanted to take a chance with you because…it feels so right. Being with you…"

"But you don't trust me," Martin argued.

Danny's eyes widened and he frowned, surprised by Martin's words. "I…I trust you with my life," he answered softly, voice full of conviction.

Martin nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving Danny's. "But not with your heart."

Danny wanted to argue, but he couldn't, because he knew – despite how much he wished it otherwise – that Martin's words were true. Painfully true. He'd yet to let go with Martin, to open up and really share anything. All because he was afraid of getting hurt as he had so many times in the past. He trusted Martin to be a good partner at work, to have his back, to be his friend even…but he was terrified of giving him his heart.

"Danny, being with you was a big step for me. You know that I've hidden who I truly am for so long, but you've been so patient with me, and helped me come to terms with all of this. You've made me _want_ to stop hiding," Martin said earnestly. "And I want more with you," he went on, reaching out to squeeze Danny's shoulder, his blue eyes bright and eager.

"I want more with you too Martin," Danny admitted softly.

Martin shook his head, his eyes darkening. He pulled back from Danny and sat up, running his hands through his hair and sighing in frustration. Danny sat up as well, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Martin try to choose his next words.

"But how can I believe that when you won't share anything with me?" he asked, sounding upset. "You got me to share so much with you…about my family, my past, my fears, what I want from life…but every time I try to get you to open up, you push me away. Or you lie," he added, pain flashing brightly in his eyes. "And I just don't know how we're supposed to stay together like this…" he finished softly, a defeated expression on his face.

Danny swallowed hard, Martin's words making him cold, scared, desperate. He didn't want to lose him. But he didn't know what to say now, couldn't bring himself to offer another empty apology and watch that pain flash across Martin's eyes again. Shaking his head, he blinked away tears and stood up, walking away from the bed and out onto the balcony, hugging his arms around himself as he looked out at the darkened ocean. He jumped in surprise when he felt Martin's arms wrap around his waist, the other man pressing close to him against his back. He hadn't expected Martin to follow him; he had, in fact, expected him to leave.

"Tell me something real Danny," he pleaded, his breath warm against the back of Danny's neck.

He turned around slowly, careful to stay within the warmth of Martin's arms. He studied the other man intently, surprised at the hope he saw in his eyes. Only moments ago, Martin had been explaining why they weren't going to work, but now he was here, trying once again to get Danny to be honest with him. Danny took a deep breath, pressing closer to Martin for comfort. Absently, he trailed his fingers over Martin's jaw and neck, needing to touch him.

He knew this was his last chance, but that didn't make it any easier. For so long he'd kept himself hidden from anyone and everyone, knowing that if he didn't open up there was less of a chance that he could get hurt. Growing up the way he had was what had done that to him…making him cynical and sarcastic. At least on the outside. But hidden deeply inside he still had hope, still wanted love…but showing any of that made him vulnerable to pain again. Now, however, staying silent, and keeping his feelings hidden so that he didn't risk his heart was something he just couldn't do. Because the prospect of losing Martin was so much _more _painful.

"I grew up only thirty minutes or so from here," he confessed quickly, knowing that once he started it would be easier to keep going. "The other day…when I disappeared for a couple hours, that's where I went. To my old neighborhood…just to see, to remember…" he explained, voice tight with fear and uncertainty. It was still hard to get the words out. "When you asked if I spent a lot of time at the beach when I was younger…we didn't, not really…that much was true. But there were a few times, when somehow my mother had a free moment, and she'd gather my brother and I together and bring us to the beach…and I…I _loved_ those days Martin," he whispered, grateful for the way the other man didn't interrupt, only listened, his eyes warm, his touch comforting.

"You'd think that…something like that would be easier to share. But I…I think I'm more protective of the good memories," he explained softly. "If I share them I'm afraid that they'll get away…"

Martin pulled him closer, pressing soft kisses to the corners of his mouth, his cheek and his neck. Whispered his name against his ear and held him for the longest time, fingers combing gently through his dark hair.

"Last night…when you were gone I went to see my parents' graves. I…haven't been there since their funeral when I was eleven. I didn't want to be there…not by myself," he confessed, lowering his voice because he knew it was about to break. "But I needed to go…"

"I would've gone with you," Martin said softly, cupping Danny's face in his hands, his thumbs moving back and forth soothingly over his jaw. "If you had told me; if you had asked."

Danny nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt undone by Martin's words and the deeper meaning that lay behind them. Mostly though, it was the expression in his eyes…the feelings that flickered there. Something deep and strong that Danny knew would only grow if they managed to work through their problems.

"I want you to have faith in me Martin," Danny said eventually, his voice trembling. "I…want to trust you more, to share my feelings, to be honest with you all of the time and not lie or give you half truths. Because I want this to work so badly, more than any relationship I've had in a very long time. I…I think that's a big part of the reason why I asked you to come to Miami with me. Because I knew it would be harder to hide here, so close to where I grew up, and maybe I'd be forced to tell you something real…"

Martin kissed him softly, wrapping his arms around Danny's waist and resting his forehead against his when their mouths broke apart. "I know why you were keeping things to yourself Danny. I understand that need. It's easier to keep it hidden, because if you start to share yourself there's a better chance you'll get hurt," he murmured, breath warm against Danny's mouth. "I know that. I've lived like that practically my whole life. But with you it was all so different, and for the first time I found it easy to share things, to not be so cautious or secretive. I wanted you to know my feelings and my secrets. And when you didn't do the same, I just felt that…that I had made a mistake or that you didn't want the same things…"

"I do," Danny said quickly. "I want us to work so badly Fitz. I want us to be real and strong because I've never felt this way before. Things with you are just so…amazing." He paused, pulling back just slightly, his hands at the back of Martin's neck. "Tell me I didn't fuck it all up," he whispered, eyes pleading. Where they were now was different from where they'd been a few hours ago. But he still needed reassurance. "Let me try again…please?"

Martin's lower lip trembled and he pressed his fingers to Danny's mouth. He nodded, a small smile flitting across his lips. "Yes Danny," he answered, voice breaking softly just before he kissed him again. "I don't want to give up," he whispered frantically against his mouth. Danny held onto him tightly, kissing him with a powerful sort of need, thankful that he hadn't lost him.

They made love with a new sort of closeness that had never been there before, coming together with touch and taste, their eyes locked. It was slow and intense, Martin moving methodically inside of him, their hands intertwined above Danny's head. He gave himself over in a way he never had, surrendering, letting Martin see what he'd always kept hidden before. Their skin was hot against each other, kisses wet and deep; the only sounds in the room were their bodies moving together and their hushed moans of pleasure.

Danny held Martin tightly afterwards, both of them still breathing heavily, their hearts beating frantically. He ran his fingers in random patterns over Martin's sweat-slicked skin, nipping gently at his lips as they traded kisses and soft whispers. And it was easy to fall asleep that way, in a tangle of limbs and sheets, nearly every inch of each other touching in some way.

The morning brought a reassuring continuance of what they'd promised the night before. And Danny felt surprisingly safe. He wanted to share more of his past and his feelings with Martin, and now he found that he could. Not that it was exactly effortless, but it was so much easier because he was learning that he could trust Martin. With everything. It brought them closer than they had ever been before, and by the time they left Florida, Danny felt more secure. Not only in their relationship, but also with himself.

That wasn't to say that he could immediately overcome the urge to hide, to make up half-truths and cover his feelings with sarcasm or a quick change of the subject. And sometimes Martin let him hide, knew that he needed some time to figure it all out. But he remembered more often to trust Martin, to remember that they were together and it was so much easier than being alone.

Fin


End file.
